


Elbereth, An Elf's story from the time after the War of the Ring

by Audrey_girl



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audrey_girl/pseuds/Audrey_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers: Lord of the Rings<br/>Also assumptions on the outcome of The Hobbit</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I live in Rivendell, Middle-Earth. Here, up on a bluff, my ancestors once lived. Not my direct ancestors, they lived in Mirkwood. But all the elves are related, even if very distantly.

That’s what I am. One of the last elves in Middle-Earth. I live in an orphanage in Rivendell because my parents sailed to the Elven-home when I was around 2, and my foster mother died when I was 5 or 6. Before she could tell me who my parents are. It’s a custom of the elves to leave their children in Middle-Earth so they (we) can chose if we want to leave or not. Now that I have reached the age where I can chose if I want to leave or not, I’m not sure I want to. This is my home. But, the idea of the elven-home, and of Varda, the land of the Valar, is tempting...And that’s where my story begins.

At the orphanage, we sleep two people per room. Each room has two beds, two sets of drawers, one sink and one window. Outside my window is a big tree with branches growing right up to the window. Concealed in the thick foliage, I built myself a platform where I sleep at night. I can’t ever sleep inside an enclosed space as small as my shared room, with not enough fresh air and not enough visible stars. I may sound picky, but it’s true. I swing into the tree from my window after lights out and my roommate and friend, Heather, wakes me up at morning call. I’m normally awake with the birds, so she just lets me know when I need to come inside. My name is Beth, by the way. My full name is Elbereth, but I prefer Beth. It makes me uncomfortable to be called by the same name name as the Lady Elbereth, Lady of the Stars.

One night, the day after I turned 16, I wake up to an abnormal rustling in the tree below me. I lay still, pinpointing where the noise is coming from. When I find the direction, I silently rise and creep to the edge of my platform. I peek over the edge, lying on my stomach. In the moonlight that barely makes it through the leaves I see the big, dark shape of a man climbing my tree. Without any warning, a great weight lands on my back, pinning me down. A hand clamps firmly over my mouth, cutting of my cry. Unfortunately for my attacker, I’ve learned to defend myself, mostly from wrestling with the young boys here at the orphanage. I go limp, signaling defeat. The person relaxes a bit and I explode into action. I push up with my hips and twist over, yelling to give me more strength. The person, who I now see is another man with long hair, lands on his side with a grunt and I spring to my feet. I start to run towards my bedroom window, forgetting in my haste that one should never turn their back on an attacker. I remember as I hear feet drumming behind me and get caught from behind. The man traps me against himself, hand over my mouth again, a knife against my back. I struggle against him in vain.

               “You have two options,” he whispers right in my ear, making me flinch. “You can come quietly and gently, or I will gag, tie and carry you. Either way you’ll be gagged, but I won’t have to knock you out if you come easily.” Fat chance, I think. The moment your hand is off my mouth I’m going to scream loud enough to wake everyone from here to Minas Tirith. But I stop struggling and the knife is removed from my back. My hands are forced behind me and tied tightly. Then, the hand is removed. I open my mouth to scream and a bunch of cloth is shoved in my mouth and tied securely. Why didn’t I think of that?! I berate myself.

               “How are we going to get her down?” The second man made it into the tree while his long-haired companion was catching me again.

               “Do you have the long rope?” the longhaired man asks. His companion nods and passes it over. “Easy. We tie it to her waist, lower her down, and I’ll tie it to my waist before I climb down.”  Before I can do anything, I’m tied up in the rope, shoved to and over the edge of the platform and am spinning towards the ground. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel a sickening yank of the rope pull my up by my stomach and set me gently on the ground. I struggle to my feet and try not to run, because I know that’ll be futile. But when the long haired man I’m attached to hits the ground and falls over, I bolt. He is pulled a tiny bit, but he’s too big and I’m not strong enough to go anywhere, especially without the use of my hands. I trip and fall and just lay still my mind working frantically for another escape outlet. But my captor is grimly getting up and coming towards me. When he reaches me, he places his foot on my back so I can’t run, unties himself and binds my feet. He then picks me up bodily and carries me away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I’m carried through the rest of the night. We stop right before dawn and the men take cover in a thicket right off the road where we can see the road, but no one will be able to see us. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon and I can’t help thinking of Heather my friend, and all the little children who I played with at the orphanage and who prefered me taking care of them.

As the light strengthens, I can’t help looking curiously at my captors. The long haired one is tall and slender with sea grey eyes. He looks like an elf straight out of the stories my foster mother used to tell me. Stories of the Fellowship of the Ring and the War of the Ring. To this day my role model has been and most likely will always be Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil of Mirkwood. My kinsmen. But right now he sits with his head bowed so his hair conceals his face. As if he senses my gaze, he looks up, pushing his fair hair out of his face, and I get a glimpse at his ears. Pointed. Just like mine. Elf ears. The sight of it makes me mad. Why would an elf, who now appears to be only a little older than I am, kidnap another elf!? But I’m still gagged so I can’t ask. He looks back at me with a mixture of curiosity, and sympathy. So I switch my gaze to his companion.

The man I see is about the same age as his companion, but a little shorter. He also has pointed ears but they’re more rounded, leading me to believe he’s a half-elf. He has dark hair and green eyes that look more ready to laugh than kidnap anyone. But at the moment, I don’t and won’t trust them for awhile.

The day passes slowly, and my arms and feet begin to go numb. My captors don’t talk much and we spend the day napping (or trying to in my case) and sitting still so as not to draw attention to ourselves. The long haired elf untied my arms and legs and re-tied them in a more comfortable away; looser than before, but not loose enough to escape from. I have an easier time falling asleep then. But before I know it, the sun is setting and we’re on the move.

Just like last night, my captors carry me. We must have come a long way last night because pretty soon we’re passing Weathertop and the ruins of Amon Sûl, and then Bree. At Bree, we get horses and I ride behind Long Hair. Soon we’re on the edge of the Shire. But the borders of the Shire are guarded a lot better than anywhere else by the Dùnadian rangers who still live here, so we have to skirt around the Hedge and take the long around the Shire.

I believe we are heading towards the Blue Mountains, since they are a stronghold of old. But then, they are stronghold of the dwarves so I guess not. But after several days of hiding during the day and traveling by night, we finally reach our destination. The Sea. When we got away from inhabited areas I was allowed to be ungagged and untied while traveling. But when we reach the elven harbor and my captors try to force me onto a boat, I try once again to run. I actually make it to the entrance when I’m cut off by my captors. They both jump lightly off their horses and catch me in a blink of an eye. I struggle fiercely against them, tears running fast and freely  down my cheeks as they carry me onto the boat and lock me in a room. There is a bed, and a small window facing Middle-Earth and I watch as my home fades away into the distance. I crumple on the floor and give into my tears and eventually fall asleep to the rocking of the boat, exhausted both by my desperate attempt to flee and the shock of being forced from the one place I love. Middle-Earth is the land where my people came from. Yes, I have always had a yearning to go across the sea, but I’m not ready to. Not yet…

 


End file.
